


Restless

by mattzerella_sticks



Category: DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Flora & Fauna, Alien Planet, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bets & Wagers, Embarrassed Barry Allen, Embarrassed Bruce Wayne, Gay Sex, Goofy Barry Allen, Goofy Bruce Wayne, High Barry Allen, High Bruce Wayne, Humorous Ending, M/M, Nudity, Outer Space, Porn With Plot, Public Nudity, Rimming, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Sex Pollen, Very loose plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: Returning home from a mission in outer space, the team picks up a distress signal off-course. They rush off to help, landing on a strange alient planet teeming with life. Especially within the plant kingdom.While guarding the Javelin, Bruce and Barry encounter one such member while engaging in some familiar fight-flirting. Will its effects spell trouble for the League, or help these two relax their guards long enough to explore new possibilities?(Hint: It's a little bit of both)
Relationships: Barry Allen/Bruce Wayne, Batman/Flash
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	Restless

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone is hanging in there 😀 Sending all my love and support - I hope you relax and enjoy escaping the outside world with my fic.
> 
> Enjoy!

Bruce scrolls through his tablet, monitoring the Javelin’s functions from his seat at the front. One of many tasks he divides his focus between, including watching the video feed of the open bay door and checking the communication systems in case the others radio in. All necessary when designated support, on guard for when the mission goes sour and a quick exit is needed.

They picked up a distress signal on their way back from a diplomatic mission. Helping unite warring factions by exposing the true masterminds of the conflict. A group of gem smugglers who used battlefield confusion to mine and transport a supply of crystals that, when broken down correctly, can become a low-cost substitute for fuel. When they left the leaders not only agreed on peace but also dedicated the efforts they put towards war into research on these crystals.

Job done, he and the others began the journey back. Halfway from Earth the calm atmosphere was quickly shattered by blaring alarms and the crackle of an open transmission. “Help! Repeat *buzz* in danger… anyone… of control *buzz* Help!”

“Bruce,” Clark steadied a hand on his chair, leaning beside him, “Can you trace where this is coming from?”

He flipped a few more switches, already twisting a knob when Clark stepped in. “Working on it.”

The signal came from a planet two star systems away. Lush with vegetation, Bruce found landing a tad impossible without crushing a tree or two. They ultimately landed in a small clearing near a jagged outcrop; rocks and leaves providing cover for their ship. Fully settled John lay out the orders – him, Clark, Diana, and J’onn would scout ahead for the source while he stayed behind.

“Ugh, I’m so bored.”

Him, and one other person.

Bruce glances at Barry, the speedster’s knees tucked up under his chin while he glares at the windshield. He vibrates in his seat, electricity sparking from his eyes. “Stop it,” Bruce tells him, tapping on a window and bringing it full-size, “you’ll make the whole ship shake.”

Barry scoffs, directing his glare at Bruce. “At least something would happen, then.”

He did not take his assignment lightly. “Why do I have to guard the ship, too? Batman can handle it!”

“Bruce used up a lot of his artillery on our last mission,” John said, pointing at Bruce. “In the chance that enemies sneak past our defenses and overrun him, we’d lose our position.”

“Very unlikely chance,” Bruce reminds them. Helping Barry because he would rather guard the Javelin alone. And not with a speedster who proved more distracting than he can handle.

“Even so,” John continued, “Barry, you would provide an escape path. Or scour the planet in three seconds, find us, and assemble the calvary. Now there will be no further discussions, got it?” Barry opened his mouth in protest, snapping it closed just as fast given the sharp look on John’s face. “Good. Hopefully this won’t take long, and we can make up for lost time.” He strides towards the exit, the others at his heels. “Let’s move out!”

That was over an hour ago. John checked in an hour after they left, reporting they have not found any sign of a threat so far. Bruce gave them updated specs on the transmission he decoded while they were out, about how the signal came from somewhere north of where they landed. He signed off, promising Bruce a second call in another hour.

Another hour where Bruce must keep the fraying strings of his patience tied together lest they snap, and he does something he will regret.

Barry slumps in his seat, legs dropped on the dashboard console and arms hanging off the sides. He sighs dramatically, again, drawing Bruce away from his duties. “Feet off.”

“Why?” he asks, digging his heels in, “I’m not even on any of the controls!”

“Because I said so,” Bruce turns to face him, brows drawn deep behind his cowl, “that’s why.”

Barry matches his expression, nose twitching with irritation. Suddenly, though, all the creases of his mask smooth, and Barry offers a half-lidded stare instead. Shrugs, he removes his feet and lets them crash to the floor. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yeah, why are we wasting time arguing, y’know?” The corners of his mouth tick upwards, a small chuckle escaping past his lips. “I’m bored… but not _that_ bored to care about where I can place my feet.” Then he tugs off his cowl, running gloved hands through sweat-spiked locks. “It sure is hot in here, though.”

While strange, Bruce treats his resignation as a victory. “Glad we can agree,” he says, stilted, “you can turn down the temperature, if you want…”

Barry stretches casually, rolling the wrong knob. A burst of heat explodes from the vents and onto them, causing the already warm air to swell further. Bruce curses at the sweat, pooling under the edges of his cowl, escapes and race down his face. He fixes Barry’s mistake and readies another tirade.

Only nothing comes. A sweet scent blew between them, his nose itching from its brush. Bruce sniffs, rubbing his nose. He breathes in deep, although the intent with which he does so is lost on him. Bruce cannot remember what he wanted to say.

Relaxing against his seat, limbs loose and hanging, he tries grasping for his thoughts. They slip out of reach like loose paper on the wind. Like confetti. His lips fold in a small smile, prompted by the comparison – imagining that ticker tape raining overhead while in a parade.

A trumpeter blows a horn, except it isn’t that. Red brackets the video on his monitor, showing a large number of vines creeping through the entryway. Bruce then glances up when he sees a few, similar vines inching over the windshield. He squints, wracking his brain for a response. The sense that he forgets an important detail hung overhead. Looming shadow forgotten when he hears Barry clearing his throat beside him.

“It’s so hot,” he whines again. Barry has one leg up over his knee while he tugs on his boot. It pops off with a relieved sigh, Barry tossing it behind him while he frees his other foot. When finished there he starts pulling on the neck of his cowl.

Bruce slips a finger under his own heated costume, adding needed breathing room. He swallows around a knot in his throat. “What are you… what’re you doing?”

“Cooling off,” Barry explains, fabric pooling at his waist. Toned arms and chest on display for Bruce, his eyes following the darker blond hairs as they lead downwards. Suggestive, coloring Bruce’s imagination with images he has never seen but desperately wants. Craves more than ever before.

Barry stands, whipping off his pants and giving Bruce’s fantasy points of reference. Bruce blanches, knowing he should look away but unable to. “That’s better,” Barry sits again, one leg thrown casually over the side of the chair. He waits a beat, and then faces Bruce. “Y’know,” he whispers, grinning, “you’re lookin’ a little hot around the collar.”

“I am?”

“Take all that off,” Barry waves at his costume, “it’s so hot. Why’re you even wearing it anyway?”

Bruce doesn’t know, nor does Bruce care he cannot remember. “Sure,” he says, shucking the cowl and cape in one swift motion. His shirt follows, backtracked by an appreciative grunt from nearby. Barry watches him undress with one hand stroking his heavy cock. A bead of pre-come leaks out which he wipes up with his thumb. Bruce’s tongue runs over his bottom lip, skin scorching even though unburdened by thick fabric.

Barry giggles, Bruce shifting his gaze towards his face. He hides a wide, bright grin behind a fist, and hazy eyes spark in delight. “Why’d you stop?” Barry asks, “it was getting good…” His pumps grow slow, _achingly_ slow. “Don’t you want to feel good?” Bruce has not understood much these past few minutes, but the hidden meaning clicks immediately.

Fumbling with his utility belt, Bruce kicks off his boots and jumps up. Bounces while peeling his pants off. Until he stands, naked, his own dick hanging beside his thigh. “I want to feel good,” he says.

“So do I,” Barry rises, “so do I…” He runs his fingers through the hairs at the nape of Bruce’s neck. “Let’s feel good together.”

“All right…”

Bruce presses his lips against Barry’s, skin tingling from the speedster’s inherent electricity. Static latching onto nerve endings and setting them off like fireworks. His hands travel down the planes of Barry’s body, settling on his waist. He squeezes with bruising force while he works the other man’s mouth open with his tongue.

Barry responds with matched fervor. Guides Bruce through forceful tugs on his hair, other hand vibrating and circling his hole. Bruce moans into the kiss, legs buckling from the pleasure. The tremors still, Barry’s hand latched tight on his lower back. Together they sink into the floor. He lies on his back, legs lifted and spread, resting on Barry’s shoulders.

“How badly do you want this, Bruce?”

“So badly,” he tells Barry, squirming in his grip. A rogue foot nudges too close to the speedster’s cheek and draws a chuckle out of him. “Very badly.”

“Perfect…” Barry dips below where Bruce can see him, blond locks like a blanket for his dick. Tight, black coils mixing with the pale-yellow color of Barry’s hair. He opens Bruce’s ass and noses at it, first. Tickling the hole and blurring his vision further. Bruce bites his lip while stars dance overhead.

Barry licks a stripe up his crack, darting quickly inside Bruce’s hole. “Do it again.” He does, longer, twisting against the wave-like motions of his fluttering muscles.

“Y’know, I always wondered what bats tasted like…” Bruce snorts a laugh which quickly transitions into a moan when Barry slips a finger in where his tongue used to be. Vibrating and crooked, Barry finds Bruce’s prostate. He arches, sliding on his forgotten cape. Bruce claws at Barry’s scalp while a large drop of pre-come soaks into his hair. “You like that?”

Someone answers for him. A voice crackles across nearby speakers, yelling throughout the room. An attempt at bursting the bubble he and Barry exist within. “Bruce! Barry! Do you copy?” Bruce recognizes the voice, but no name nor face appears in his mind besides Barry’s. “I repeat – do you copy! We’ve found the source of the distress signal and – Diana, on your right – and it’s a trap! We’re sending our coordinates for an extraction.” His voice, drenched with anger, weighs heavily on his good mood. Bruce’s smile falls as he stares at the red, blinking light on the console. “Hello? Is anyone even there –“

Barry looks up from his hole, finger working a steady rhythm despite the interruption. “Doesn’t anyone have manners?” he scoffs, “We’re in the middle of something.”

“Let me handle it.” Blindly, Bruce thumps his foot along the console. Pressing randomly at buttons until the red, blinking light snaps and fades; the voice along with it. Silence governs the machinery. “Done.”

“Beautiful…” Barry wraps his free hand around Bruce’s ankle and brings it close, kissing the side of his foot. “Thank you.”

“Thank me by adding another finger.” He listens, the second digit stretching his hole. Barry scissors it open, Bruce’s toes curling from the act. “Yeah…”

“Hey, man, don’t let me do all the work,” Barry says, smirking, “play with yourself a little.”

“Hmm…” Bruce slides his hand out of the other man’s hair, loosely gripping his straining dick. It pulses with urgency, a steady leak coating a match of skin that grows when Bruce messily coats it along the rest of his purpling cockhead. “Oh, Barry,” he hisses, jerking, “can you…”

“Can I what?”

“Stick it in me. I want your cock in me.”

“Skipping ahead? And they say I’m fast.”

“Too long…” Bruce admits, shivering when Barry lays his hand over Bruce’s and helps stroke his dick. “Wanted this… for too long.”

Barry cools, fingers half-inside Bruce and stopping him from continuing the rub of his dick. Bruce whines, low in his throat, asking why Barry stopped. “Sorry,” he whispers, a light bursting behind the fog of his eyes. Like someone lit a torch in a lighthouse, so weary sailors could find their way home. “Sorry I… a thought zipped by me.”

“What kind of thought?”

“Well,” Barry wiggles a tiny gesture with his hidden hand, Bruce’s knee bending from the bundle of nerves he hit. “When you said that, it was funny because I’ve always felt the same. So that thought that raced by – the one that happened just then – it was me wondering why, if we wanted each other… why we never did this?”

Bruce dives into the pools of his memories for a reason. Except they’re dark, inaccessible, covered in a film that prevents Bruce from knowing any other time that isn’t now. In the heat of the moment, too long meant from when Barry removed his cowl to laying on his back with Barry’s fingers in his ass. If Bruce could see what his mind hides, he doubts there aren’t a thousand scenes like this waiting. The idea of he and Barry not enjoying each other’s bodies proves laughable, which is why he snickers generously. “We’re doing it now,” Bruce tells him, caressing Barry’s chin, “isn’t that what matters?”

“Yeah… you’re right.”

“Good. Now, stop worrying,” Bruce says, “there’s nothing to worry about. Us fucking’s all that matters.”

Barry nods, nose wrinkling from the effort of a great whiff. Light dies behind his gaze once more; blue dulled and cloudy, hidden behind sagging lids. “Yeah, I wanna fuck.”

“Then fuck me.”

He wastes no time flipping Bruce onto his chest. Bruce pushes up onto his elbows, leaning all his weight to one side while he grabs his dick. Nearly falling, hitting his chin on the hard metal, when Barry shoves his cock into Bruce with reckless abandon. Aim true, he grazes the prostate and vibrates.

Bruce twists his dick, crying from the pleasure. His spastic jerking skips a beat with every forceful thrust past Bruce’s rim. Barry keeps him steady with a firm grip on his waist. Pain disappearing with each second as ecstasy rises and rises like a volcano. Trembling, sweaty and straining, Bruce knows he will come after some more humping. 

Except, also aware of Bruce’s impending orgasm, Barry taps into his speed and in quick succession spears Bruce repeatedly. Mashes his prostate like the button on a controller.

He screams, orgasm ripped from him. Bruce coats his hand and stains the cape below, collapsing onto it when the act drained him of any remaining strength. Barry, wasting his endurance with the finishing blow, follows Bruce’s lead. Pulls out and comes over Bruce’s waiting back.

Barry collapses atop Bruce, rolling off after a beat when he regains some wherewithal. Ejaculate painted on his chest from the brief embrace. They pant, side by side, while the smell of come mixes with the heady sweetness already present. Bruce breathes in a deep, contented sigh, shifting until he, too, rests on his back.

Looking over at Barry, he finds the other’s eyes already on him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, smiling, “that was…”

“It sure was.” A loud rumble cuts through the mood, both men giggling from the sound. “Was that you or me?”

“Depends. You hungry?”

“Starving,” Bruce yawns, raising his arms overhead. “I can definitely eat, like, a lot…”

Barry nods, sitting up. “I can go get us some food and bring it back here,” he suggests, stepping over towards the exit. Pauses at the door to glance back at Bruce. “Maybe have some more sex after we eat.”

“ _Definitely_ have more sex.”

He winks, “Be back in a flash.” Barry leaves, then, Bruce alone in the strange, metal cave he and Barry began in.

Rising, Bruce inspects the area while scratching at the come drying on his stomach with his come-covered hand. He yawns and blinks blearily at the only section of the area not covered in grey. Pink blossoms covered a long rectangle, specks of green from their vines popping up where the petals didn’t overlap. Bruce reaches forward, except an invisible barrier blocks his attempt. Sucking on the finger, he pouts. “Bummer.”

Disappointment fades, Bruce reminded of his hunger with another growl. “I could really use something to eat,” he mutters, turning and leaving the cockpit.

On his directionless journey, no destination set in mind, Bruce comes across another wall of those pink flowers. Barry studies them from nearby, a strange expression that wrinkles his gorgeous features. “Careful,” Bruce says, walking over, “you can’t touch those.”

He raises a brow, brushing a finger against one of the petals. Bruce stares in awe, copying Barry. Flinches slightly when he thinks he hits the barrier again. Except there is none, so he pets a lone flower. He plucks it and twirls it between his fingers, smiling.

“I was going... somewhere,” Barry explains, “but then I noticed… are these – are these supposed to be here?”

“They’re very pretty,” Bruce says, dragging Barry’s face towards his, “Like you.” He places the flower in the crook of the speedster’s ear, hand tracing a simple pattern on his cheek that he seals with a kiss. “Why shouldn’t it be here?”

Barry thins his lips in a serious frown, eyes clearing up. Suddenly, though, they hear a low rumble from nearby.

Turning, all the flowers on the vines puckered. Buds closed and asleep. But then they explode, showering them with yellow dust that drifts through the air and dissipates. Leaving only a sweet trace of having existed, briefly.

Bruce coughs, “That was weird…” A whining from his stomach distracts him, though, knocking the eruption out of his thoughts. “Hey… was that you or me?”

Wobbling on his heels, Barry shrugs. “Depends. You hungry?”

“Definitely. I can eat, like, _a lot_ …”

Barry jerks his thumb behind him. “Let’s see if we can scavenge something. And then we can have sex.”

“Yes!” Bruce pulls Barry in for a passionate kiss, squeezing his stiff cock. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

“Since when?”

“Since always…” Barry begins leading Bruce away from the flowers. However, before they fully leave its presence, Bruce snatches another flower. Stares down at it while unaware of his surroundings. Sniffs the heavenly perfume and wades in the thick molasses that is his mind. He tucks it behind his ear. Lets go of Barry’s hand and ensnaring his waist, pumping his cock while they walk. Barry laughs at the gesture. “Since as long as I can _remember_ …”

* * *

Diana clears a path for them through the jungle brush with wide sweeps of her sword, taking over for John when his ring warned his battery wore thin. He hadn’t recharged since they left the K’zvig Nebula. Thankfully, there was enough for the side job they picked up on the way home.

“Stupid bandits,” John bats a low-hanging branch out of his sight, spluttering when it launches an attack and whacks him in the face. He growls, snapping it from the tree. “Why couldn’t it have been a natural disaster or an accident… but no, we _had_ to deal with _bandits_.”

Clark offers a comforting shrug. “At least we made sure they wouldn’t fool any more travelers.”

The distress signal, in reality, laid a trap for any passing ships that heard it. Reeling prey towards the bandit camp where their goods and lives were stolen. When they sent that message, the bandits wanted to intercept a passing military vessel from a nearby planet, carrying a rumored experimental weapon. By mistake, they latched onto the frequency the Javelin used.

Being the heroes they are, the bandits contended with forces far above their weight class. But they put up a strong fight. Incapacitated Clark early on in the fight and bracketed J’onn with imitation fire, both products of the local fauna; they weaponized nature against them. With John’s power running low, Diana’s quick thinking saved the day. She recognized a nearby plant from a mishap they had on their path towards the bandit camp and lassoed it, kicking the large seed from inside the bulb and watching it explode where their numbers were the largest. After that the group collected runaway stragglers and radioed for the local law enforcements.

“Hopefully,” John sighs, “Although I still think we should have stayed with them until they were taken away.”

“You know we couldn’t. Bruce and Barry might need us.”

They were all unnerved by the lack or response from their friends. Neither when they reached out during the attack nor when it ended did they answer. Each subsequent ignored call fueled the necessity for a quick retreat from the planet.

John identified a rock formation he spotted when they first arrived, and realized they were close. Although he knew nothing about what they would find when stumbling upon their ship.

“John? Clark? I think you two should take a look at this…”

Diana’s voice sunk any positivity he could have spun. The two men exchanged glances while darting through the underbrush, stepping into the clearing behind Diana and J’onn. “What the hell happened?”

Reminiscent of a parade float, flowers and vines fully blanketed the Javelin. Across the front, twining around its wings, and crawling inside through the open bay doors. Their ride made completely useless by overgrown weeds.

“Well,” Diana sighs, “I guess we know what happened to the others.”

Clark frowns, “Really? You think they’re still inside?”

“I detect two brain patterns within,” J’onn says, hands at his temples, “Though faint… I recognize them as Barry’s and Bruce’s…”

Diana nods, drawing her blade once more. “It shouldn’t take too long, then.” She advances, sword at the ready. John watches Diana raise her weapon, about to strike, when he notices the flowers retract in a defensive position.

“Diana! Watch out!” Regardless of his energy levels, John shoots off a green rope and wraps around his friend’s waist. Pulls her from the path of the flower’s spray, pollen exploding out of its mouth. He drags Diana towards him and creates a bubble around all four while more and more flowers expel their pollen.

“I almost…” Diana tucks her sword in its scabbard, nodding at John. “Thank you.”

Clark touches the bubble, grazing his fingers at where the pollen collects on its surface. “What the hell is this?”

John glares at the now greenish-pink flowers waiting, their petals pointed and ready for another puff. His ring speaks aloud, reminding him of his current situation. “Ring,” he asks it, “can you search the database and see if you can find information on what kind of flowers we’ve got on our hands?”

His ring assents, tacking on a second warning at the end. John waves it off. More concerned with whether or not the shield will last given his power and not with the power, itself.

“Flowers that have seven hyper-pigmented pink petals, yellow, explosive pollen and an overly sweet aroma are known as Lyossus Blossoms. Native to the planet Rylyn IX, they are used by inhabitants and visitors recreationally, in religious ceremonies, and medical procedures because of the pollens’ effect on the human body. By sensing danger using the longest petal, these flowers’ defense mechanism neutralizes any aggression they sense. Ingesting pollen – whether by breathing it in, eating it, or even letting it touch your skin, as a human – will neutralize both the pre-frontal cortex and hippocampus. And adrenaline levels will fall while dopamine rises.”

Clark chuckles, “This is space weed?” Three sets of glares focus on him, stifling his good mood. “Sorry.”

“Ring,” he continues, “Is there any serious harm for humans who are exposed to this pollen.”

“In the short term, no. However, overexposure can lead to death by starvation and dehydration, as the person loses inner drive to fulfill either of those needs.”

“Like the lotuses from the Odyssey…” Diana crosses her arms, studying the field. “It took all of Odysseus’s willpower to resist that temptation. I’m sure if we stride forward, we can resist the effects long enough to activate the ship’s defenses.”

John shakes his head, “That’s too risky Diana. You heard my ring; it can be absorbed through the _skin_. We need to think of another way.” His ring darkens briefly, shield glitching. A few spores burst through that the group are careful in avoiding. “And think of it fast.”

“Hey,” Clark says, looking around the bubble, “Where’s J’onn?”

A tiny explosion draws their attention. One section of the vines holding their ship captive bursts into flames, the flowers withering into ash. “Apologies,” J’onn speaks in their minds, calm as ever, “I figured taking action was the best possible course rather than discuss it. Since I can become intangible _and_ have laser vision… it will not be too difficult clearing this away.”

“That… makes sense.” John smirks, shrugging, “Carry on then.”

J’onn mows through the plants while the others wait, contemplating how they can disperse the remaining pollen. When the Martian telepathically communicates his accomplishment, John brings down the shield. Clark blows once the first hole appears, scattering the yellow dots everywhere except their ship.

“Bruce and Barry, J’onn?” John asks, “Are they still inside?”

He lands beside them by the bay doors, fully visible and solid. “I can definitely sense them, but their thoughts are still muddled… my best guess, there remains an abundance of pollen within the ship.”

“Can’t incinerate _that_ without blowing up the ship…” John presses his ring against the metal, pouring all his willpower into the flickering jewelry. “Ring, do you have enough power to connect with the ship’s systems and activate the air filtration system?” It beeps once, a ‘yes’ without risking energy. He waits. Listens while the Javelin rattles and wheezes. His friends stand clustered behind him, their presence a necessary anchor while he remains focused on his ring.

Finally, it beeps again. “Cabin air has been recycled. All outside toxins are safely stored for disposal. Power at zero percent.”

John sags, Clark catching him. “You did good, John.”

“Don’t feel too good.”

“You need your rest,” she says, “which you will get once we’re back on ship. Although… first we should check on our friends. Make sure they’re fine.”

Clark snickers under breath, muttering. “Bruce… high on space weed… this I _have_ to see…”

The group climb aboard their ship, careful stepping over the ashen remains of flowers caught in J’onn’s laser vision. Soon the ash lessens, replaced with discarded wrappers and bottles the closer they move towards the cockpit. Hushed laughter reaches their ears from behind the door, each of them exchanging looks. Diana, at the front, hits the panel that opens it.

Bruce and Barry, both naked, turn from their seats at the head of the cockpit. Barry’s foot rested in Bruce’s hands, mid-massage, while their faces were blank and muddied due to the pollen’s effects. The last two flowers rested in their hair.

“Hey,” Bruce says, turning and showing off his genitals, “welcome to the party.”

Clark nearly drops John from the shock, grip slack. But then it becomes too tight, Clark gazing at the machinery on the side instead of at his friend’s unabashed display.

“Bruce, Barry,” Diana coughs, gracefully composed given the situation, “are either of you… okay?”

They exchange twin looks of confusion, Barry pointing at himself and asking, “Are you talking to us?”

“Christ,” Clark hisses, John’s bones straining under his hold, “what did they get up to while we were out?”

John takes in the discarded clothing, especially Bruce’s soiled cape, and pieces a few visuals together. He shudders once its complete. “Nothing we should ever think about again. Ever.” He clears his throat, “J’onn? Can you handle… whatever this is?”

“I can remove the flowers, but do not believe my powers can shake them from this stupor.”

“Allow me,” she tells the others, brandishing her lasso, “I would like to try something.”

J’onn nods, disappearing through the floor. Bruce and Barry crow with glee, latter applauding his trick. In the next breath he appears behind them on the outside of the Javelin. He removes their accessories, safely dumping them before their pollen could release.

With those gone, Diana tosses her lasso on the parts where their bodies are the closest: Bruce’s hand and Barry’s foot. She pulls tight, wrapping the excess around her knuckles. “Listen to me friends,” Diana croons, soft and gentle as if she coaxes woodland creatures into the light. “Remember who you really are. Let the golden perfect wash away what has been done to you, so you can return.”

Her lasso glows with godly light, John’s vision overcome. He closes his eyes, but the light penetrates it still. Suddenly it disappears, and he blinks away the spots. In their seats, Bruce and Barry sit slumped over and unconscious. Diana gathers her lasso, clipping it onto her belt. “If this works, they should be themselves again.”

Barry awakens first. His head jumps up and his gaze bounces around the room with lightning speed. “The mission,” he asks, standing, “what happened with the –“ He steps on a lone boot, and that helps Barry realize his current state. “Holy -!” Collapsing on the seat, Barry snatches the boot and covers his waist. Curls in on himself, thinking it might help. Splotchy redness spreads over his shoulders and knees.

They already saw enough.

Bruce follows soon after, face darkening as he stares at his exposed genitalia. He growls low in his throat, “ _What_ … _happened_.”

“You were under the influence of the local flora,” J’onn tells them, “and it caused you to… well –“

“You were space stoned!” Clark rips the band-aid off, earning more of the ire Bruce originally shot Barry’s way. “Can you,” he turns his head, “Can you please go put your clothes back on?”

He stands, collecting the fallen pieces of his costume. Folds the cape without addressing the obvious stain on it. Then Bruce storms out of the cockpit, a noticeable blush highlighting the roundness of his cheeks.

J’onn places a hand on Barry’s shoulder, startling him. “You should probably get dressed, too.”

“Yep!” Barry nods, “Yeah, I’ll… if you will all excuse me.” Because of his powers, no one sees Barry leave. Absence marked by the empty chair and invisible uniform.

John rips himself free from Clark’s grip, taking seat at the helm. “While they… freshen up, we should probably begin take-off. Otherwise we’ll be trapped with more of those flowers and who knows what else.” He flips a few switches, careful with his touch. “J’onn? Can you co-pilot?”

“Of course.”

Clark and Diana fall in behind them, a heated discussion brewing between them. John eavesdrops, muscles in control of following through the procedures.

“So, what does this mean for our bet?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Bruce and Barry did it. But… does it count?” 

“I don’t see why it shouldn’t?”

“Because they were under the influence of a plant. Did what they do really come from them acting on repressed feelings or because the pollen made them sexually charged and they were the only ones here?”

“That shouldn’t discount what happened. It’d be the same if they got drunk or high on Earth… if Barry could get drunk, or high, that is…”

John sighs, flipping the final switch on the console. He drags the yoke close to his chest, steady while the Javelin rises. “I think it should count,” John adds, startling Clark and Diana, “that way I get my money. Why do you think I made _them_ stay behind anyway?”

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Let me know by dropping a kudos/comment below!


End file.
